


Tacoma 52'

by Nuke_fride_Chimken



Series: Tacoma 52' [1]
Category: Altered Carbon (TV), Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game), Furry (Fandom)
Genre: Dark, Dystopia, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Science Fiction, Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:14:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23044576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nuke_fride_Chimken/pseuds/Nuke_fride_Chimken
Summary: It's basically an amalgamation of all these different sci-fi things + dumb furry crap. It may or may not include certain elements of all of these things, so I apologize in advance. it follows the story of a (anthro) dragon named Pynn, who struggles with his immortality and grief idk. I honestly don't have a clear direction for this story and don't even know if I wanna write more of this. so I'm sorry if you enjoy this, and I don't... (btw this is the first thing I wrote on AO3...) its based in the year 2252...
Series: Tacoma 52' [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1656088





	Tacoma 52'

Pynn sat down at a table in a roadside diner, looking around at with a curious sway of his head, both of them being nearly extinct. Eyeing an omelet being served to somebody else, mouth-watering for the tantalizing flowing cheese with various meat and veggies sprawled about it, he ordered it. Food didn't catch his interest usually, not that he had a need for it, nor did he usually want it, but he decided was being different today for once. Hjodtar, ahem, Dr. Hjodtar had told him that he should just enjoy himself.  
  
He couldn't help but feel alien there, everyone with their families, their lovers, their friends, and he's just there, sitting in an empty, red booth. The thought made him blue, really, his scales change color, apart from his eyes, they stayed green. He was determined to eat that damned omelet, now it was a matter of principle, it became less about the omelet with every tick of the old, analog wall clock. He thought more about the seat in front of him, or rather it emptiness, staring at its vacancy longingly. The weight of his pain outweighing the omelet and what it stood for, He decided to leave this diner and go home, before he heard the click of a plate being set down in front of him. He looked up, seeing the sheep waitress with who set down the plate, dressed in a kind of 50's waitress outfit with the name _Kel_ on her nametag "is that all?" she asked, in a mild sultry tone

"yeah," he mumbled, his voice low pitched "and Uhm," he hands her cash and change, also rare, "this is for the omelet, and here's a tip"

"a tip eh? Why don't you give me the whole thing~?"

Pynn grimaced a bit, not at her, she was quite pretty, it was just her words, he hasn't heard that one since... awhile ago. The thought was overwhelming, the same thought that pained him for years, you'd think he'd be numb to it by now.

  
Pynn quickly left outside with the plate, and a fork amidst the "you can't take that plate outside" being yelled behind him, chewing on his omelet. As he chewed, he found that it didn't taste as well as he hoped, but it was enough enjoyment for today, though more painful than he'd hoped. he laid down the plate and the fork neatly on the sidewalk (eccentric ehh?) in front of the diner and headed to a bar. his favorite one.

* * *

Pynn entered there again. looking around at the faces, some new, some there again, doing the same thing he's about to do. He goes up to the bar to a new face that's bartending (thank god Hjortar isn't on shift, he doesn't want to disappoint him). "Age?" the bartender asks, wiping out a cup.

"2,"

"200? got it," He assumed, looking at the youthful dragon with a scanner ready in hand. he pointed it at Pynn's face.  
The bartender gasped at what he read on his Identifier, the age read with an extra zero.

Pynn's been here since the bar opened, a regular every night, with an unquenchable thirst for spirits. He sat down and ordered his usual, a bottle of hard whiskey, the hardest in the bar. Pynn examined it a bit, and with an unphased look, he chugged it, once again, burping a bit of fire out of his nostrils as he set the bottle down and sighed, waiting to get giggly. It wasn't too hard for him to get drunk though, he was quite small actually, his 5'2" 110 lb ass had to nearly jump onto the stool.

He took another bottle with a smile.

* * *

By now, Pynn was very tipsy, giggly in fact, drunk to the point he couldn't remember anymore. His head was down on the bartop ready to fall asleep before someone walked up to him.   
"Pynn," He asked in a deep, soothing, disappointed voice  
"hehe yeah?"

Pynn turned around, his face dropping at the sight of Hjodtar, a tall, lank Cervidic variety.

"We talked about this!" 

"bu-but I"

"You promised you weren't coming here anymore, Do I have to- you know what? drink your heart out, I'm done helping you" Hjotar waved him off, storming to the door

"w-wait, I wont dshrink anywror" Pynn slurred, stumbling out of his stool, falling on the floor with drunken tears "pleash!"

Hjodtar left him on the floor, Pynn got up on the stool again, ordering the same thing, forgetting what had happened before with a gulp.

* * *

Another guy walks up to him, He just had entered, this time a large, azure, admittedly fluffy, protogen. His visor glows a soft orange, with dark grey cybernetics about his body.  
  


"Care if I buy ya another," he asks with a small grin

"nah, its free shinks who woulb?"   
The blue protogen gestures to the bartender, laying down his card, then turning back to Pynn "so... Your name?"

**Author's Note:**

> as depressing as this chapter was, im planning to Heavily contrast it with the next chapter....;). Oh I forgot its pronounced Yoh-tar.


End file.
